


chase the horizon with me

by boxofwonder



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, RoadTrip!, Thunderstorms, akaashi is too busy marvelling at ennoshita to properly appreciate germany, and owls with martial art skills, ennoshita really doesn't mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 00:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6215734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxofwonder/pseuds/boxofwonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their meeting is not fate, per se, that would be too tacky, too grand for the way they met.<br/>If Akaashi had to put any name to it, some kind of descriptor, looking back, it's … a stroke of luck. Pure, wayward, stupidly fortunate coincidence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	chase the horizon with me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [themorninglark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/themorninglark/gifts).



> /slides in barely before the deadline  
> SORRY FOR BEING SO LATE, jesus this fic saw some rough times and struggles, but here I am, humbly offering my gift to themorninglark. I've got to admit, after reading some of your works, I was unbearably intimidated to write for you - but I still hope you will like this roadtrip :>

Their meeting is not fate, per se, that would be too tacky, too grand for the way they met.

If Akaashi had to put any name to it, some kind of descriptor, looking back, it's … a stroke of luck. Pure, wayward, stupidly fortunate coincidence.

  


\---

  


If you asked anyone – his teammates, family, friends – they would tell you that Akaashi Keiji is a smart person. Level-headed. Somehow, he doesn't quite remember how he ever deserved that sort of trust when he's standing in a foreign country, train ticket clutched in fingers only still untrembling through willpower, and stares up at displays which he mostly does not understand.

With his German barely past basic enough to even be labelled mediocre, perhaps this country was not the best choice, but frankly, it seemed like the better option than most of the others offering themselves – besides, Akaashi has never backed down from a good challenge.

This is no exception.

Only, it has long stopped being a challenge, and become nothing but a trial. Akaashi is tired of feeling lost, barely able to communicate. Everything he had longed to find here feels further out of reach than ever – all that is left for him to do now is make it to the airport and buy a ticket home.

But he's so relcutant to, so frustrated at his own weakness.

It is that moment, where Akaashi feels like standing at a crossroad, hating either option – it is then that a careful hand touches his shoulder and shows him a third path to take, another opportunity.

Raising his gaze, what Akaashi finds are calm eyes, the soft pull of a smile, and German that rings with a touch of familiarity. “Entschuldigen Sie, kann ich Ihnen helfen? Sie sehen etwas verloren aus.” Kind words. A chance to ask someone for advice who does not seem to mind, even offered it.

Akaashi opens his mouth, and his mind blanks at how to explain his complicated situation. Of course it does, when it matters. So he stumbles through a few bits of German, cuts himself off and curses quietly.

Something lights up in the eyes of the stranger at that. “Do you speak Japanese?” he asks. It has been way too long since Akaashi has heard his own language spoken by anyone but himself or laced with a charming, but heavy accent.

“Yes,” he replies, voice breathless with joy and relief. “Yes, I do.”

  


\---

  


His name is Ennoshita Chikara, his German is fluent, and he invites Akaashi to a heavenly cup of coffee in a small café, away from the train station and tucked into a side alley. One not filled to the brim with travellers. The atmosphere is calm, pleasant for Akaashi's frayed nerves and patience in a way only rivalled by the feeling of hot, bitter coffee on his tongue.

He sighs, content. “Thank you.”

“You're very welcome. I am glad that I could help. You do look quite worn out, Akaashi-san. No offense,” Ennoshita adds, calmly, before he closes his lips around another bite of his muffin. He has a curious way of eating it – breaking off pieces in small bites with his fingers and popping them into his mouth, with care too great for such a simple task. It is quite charming, actually.

“None taken,” Akaashi replies, setting his cup down on the table. He can feel his shoulders relax with the sigh he heaves, deep and freeing. “Today _has_ worn me out. You are my saving grace, to be perfectly honest.”

“Now that is a title I don't mind to have,” Ennoshita replies, voice coloured with warmth.

They fall silent for a little after that, heavy with thought, but not unpleasant. Akaashi sips at his coffee and tries to see the way Ennoshita's thoughts play out on his face. There is something like the spark of hope alight in his chest, and Akaashi feels anticipation hum in the air.

“Say,” Ennoshita says after a while, unaware of a chocolate stain at the corner of his mouth that makes Akaashi's own tip up in the hint of a smile. “This might sound strange, and of course I'm not forcing you to – but honestly, it would be stupid not to offer it. I rented a car for the time being, and I'm headed to anywhere that is not here in the first place. So instead of taking the train, why not join me?”

The man seems a little anxious about his question, dark gaze now on his plate, where he collects the last crumbs of his muffin with his fingertip. Akaashi should not even consider it, but the truth is, this is all that he had hoped for, suddenly. To get the chance to travel with someone who knows his way, someone he can talk to.

It's a risk, sure, but what else was this entire trip in the first place? Despite being a stranger, Akaashi has a feeling he can trust Ennoshita.

And he would quite like the chance for Ennoshita not to _stay_ a stranger.

The sheer pleased surprise in his gaze when Akaashi mutters “I would love to,” around the rim of his cup is worth it alone.

  


\---

  


Before they leave the café, Akaashi tells Ennoshita about the chocolate stain at the corner of his mouth, whose face falls before he starts scrubbing at his mouth.

As the other man falls in step next to him, Akaashi notes the flushed tips of his ears with a pleased little smile. His steps feel light, alongside Ennoshita.

  
  


\---

  


The feeling Akaashi gets putting his bags in the trunk is a cocktail of so many emotions, it tastes inexplicable. Perhaps, this is just another wrong turn after many, a stupid idea, throwing common sense to the wind. That's what his mind is trying to tell him anways, but -

This truly is his last chance to find what he has been seeking - the thrill of an adventure, experiences so rich he would carry those precious memories with him forever. Something new, something exhilarating, something -

“When do you have to be at the airport?” Ennoshita asks from where he’s rummaging on the backseat to make a little space for Akaashi’s carry-on luggage. “My appointment is in a week, so until then, I’m free to go wherever. Honestly, I just planned to see a bit of the country.”

“I haven't bought my plane ticket yet,” Akaashi admits, words are laced with an underlying question. Ennoshita straightens next to the car, satisfied with his arrangement.

“Then, what do you want to see before you leave?” he asks, his eyes bright and a small smile tugging at his lips like he is looking forward to whatever answer Akaashi may give.

  


\---

  


“There’s no way I can go on a roadtrip without trail mix,” Ennoshita explains as they slowly make their way through the aisles of a tiny gas station in the middle of nowhere, such a contrast to the huge, pulsing city they left behind.

There’s a crinkling bag filled with fresh baked goods on their backseat, but Akaashi is all in favour of stocking up on snacks a little. “Even though it’s horridly expensive. Anything you can’t travel without?”

Akaashi can’t help but feel amused. “This sounds like those questions - the ones where you can bring only three things to a lonely island.”

“Oh, then I’d pick my camera first and foremost,” Ennoshita replies. “If I’m stranded on a lonely island, at least I could make it an interesting project to film. Imagine that - once I’m rescued and have the media attention on me, I can share a great movie in the same breath. I'll easily skip out on trail mix for that.” Ennoshita chuckles and shakes his head, like he has said something stupid, but Akaashi only smiles.

“That sounds like a good plan, Ennoshita-san.”

“What would _you_ bring to a lonely island?”

It takes him only a moment of thinking. “Probably a pocket knife.”

“One of the ones with the hundred different functions?” Ennoshita asks, and Akaashi wonders if he is only imagining the light, teasing undertone.

“One of those, yes,” he replies, falling right into step with that new tone.

“So practical. I probably should have picked one of those too, huh?”

“It’s not too late yet, it was three things, wasn’t it? … and I would bring my sketchbook too, I guess.”

Something lights up in Ennoshita’s eyes. “You’re an artist?”

Akaashi thinks of the empty pages, nothing to show for all the inspiration he had been so stoked to find on his journey. His only attempts, he had ripped out and scattered in trash cans along his way. A way that had so far been paved with nothing but frustrations. But he doesn’t quite want that twinkle to Ennoshita’s eyes to vanish, wants to cling to the hope he finds there. “Something like that,” he replies, inclining his head.

“So, a pocket knife for both of us, my camera, your sketchbook - what is the third thing you bring?” Ennoshita asks, choosing three packs of gums to go with the packages piling in his arms. The cashier sends them a bored glance from behind her newspaper, not yet bothered to pay them attention.

“A flare gun.”

Ennoshita snorts and keeps chuckling, low and beautiful. “Not keen on being stuck too long, are you?”

“Only long enough to sketch a little while I wait to be rescued,” Akaashi replies, and Ennoshita’s mouth wobbles with his smile as he switches to German and asks to pay.

  


\---

  


Only 75 kilometres from the small gas station, with Ennoshita halfway through his trail mix and the taste of the chocolate cookies on his tongue, Akaashi realises that he never asked for the third thing Ennoshita plans to bring along, but it feels a little late to ask, now.

  


\---

  


They’re stuck in the middle of a highway in a traffic jam so insistent, two children from a red volvo two places before them started tossing a waterball back and forth in between the waiting cars because it is _safe_ to, not a single car has been moving in ten minutes. The sun is shining too hot, the heat and pressure making Akaashi feel irritated and on edge. It’s their second day on the road, and of course, they find themselves stuck in the middle of hell itself.

At least Ennoshita was benevolent enough to get a washcloth for Akaashi as well, pour water over it, and smack it on both their necks. Even their water is lukewarm, though, and Akaashi can’t stop fantasising of snow, or ice cream, or anything that isn’t 38°C degree heat.

“Winter or summer?” Ennoshita asks, eyes closed and with his seat tilted back as far as it would go. He looks a little like he is trying to lift his mind above the limitations of his mortal body and escape the heat that way. Akaashi feels the same.

“Autumn. Comfortable sweaters, but no snow sludge, colourful leaves and the air tastes fresh.” He imagines cool autumn wind caressing his skin and sighs heavily in longing.

“Spring just tipping into summer,” Ennoshita mutters. “The days are long but the heat isn’t _unbearable_ _.”_

The playing kids are ushered back into the car by their parents, chatting people return to their seats. The caravan comes to an agonisingly slow crawl onwards, but the hope in Ennoshita’s eyes dies fast when they come to another halt barely ten meters further.

“God is testing me,” Ennoshita mumbles and drops his hand from the steering wheel.

“Tea or coffee?” Akaashi asks.

“Tea. But right now, iced tea. Or just ice. A bathtub full.”

Akaashi flips the washcloth on his neck again, for it to be a half degree less disgustingly warm.

“I agree with the bathtub. And coffee.”

  


\---

  


When they’ve finally checked into their motel, they are both beat and Ennoshita looks a little like he is about to cry as he throws the windows open and lets the cool night air embrace him. The breeze eventually reaches Akaashi too, where he lies sprawled on the bed.

“You can shower first,” Ennoshita offers. “I’m content to embrace the beauty of life right where I am.”

“Shower or enjoying the beauty of life?” Akaashi asks in a mock of the game they’ve kept up all day, and they break into tired giggles that can only come from too many hours of being fried out on a highway.

  


\---

  


By the time Akaashi’s skin smells like lemon rather than sweat and Ennoshita is suffering the appalling bathroom down the hall for a shower that can go between ‘scorching hot’ and ‘say hello to the ice age’ - in the piece and quiet of the small room to himself, Akaashi pulls out his sketchbook and flips it open.

Too tired to think, too surprised how much he enjoyed the day despite all odds, enveloped in silence and grateful for the cool feeling on his skin, he touches the pen to paper and starts sketching.

He flips the sketchbook closed, dissatisfied, before Ennoshita even comes back to the room, but he does not tear the page out.

Akaashi counts that as a victory.

  


\---

  


“How late is it?” Ennoshita mumbles, head under his pillow and blanket thrown off him to the ground, but still tangled at his feet. Akaashi has rarely seen anyone sleep this messily, especially considering how neat and composed Ennoshita seems to be.

“Around noon. Just starting to get unbearable out.”

With a groan, Ennoshita doesn’t move a muscle at first. Akaashi snorts, not minding much - he didn’t have the heart to wake Ennoshita after the day they had yesterday. The poor man probably needed some rest.

“Sorry - we should probably get moving.”

“I got you some breakfast.”

“You are a blessing, Akaashi-san,” Ennoshita sighs.

  


\---

  


In the end, they don’t keep going - they book another night at the motel, Ennoshita buys them ridiculous rainbow-coloured ice cream in a little store, and they take a stroll through the city, look at tiny shops and the bigger ones, for the air conditioning in them alone.

It’s lazy and slow and fun, and they keep up their game of choosing between two options which are growing more ridiculous with each new suggestion.

When they take a break and sit down on a bench at the town square, across from a huge fountain, Akaashi regrets that he didn’t take his sketchbook along. But just the same, he enjoys Ennoshita’s company - much more so than he could have anticipated. Just sitting next to him is satisfying enough for an afternoon well spent.

How pleasant.

“A penguin in a top hat or a bunny in a tuxedo?” Ennoshita asks, twisting open a water bottle.

Akaashi snorts and stretches lazily where he sits, sugary taste lingering on his tongue as he contemplates the question.

  


\---

  


“Do you see this?! This beauty!”

If Ennoshita didn’t sound so happy, Akaashi is pretty sure he would have long yanked the camera from his hands. He hates lenses on him, being filmed, but Ennoshita has the time of his life with his hands free riding shotgun, pointing the camera out the car window now. “The streets are free! You can actually _move_ on them!”

Akaashi’s lips tip up in a smile that quickly freezes when Ennoshita points the camera back at him.

“And here’s my lovely driver,” he says. “Whom I met three days ago, and still Akaashi-san knows details I didn’t even know about myself before, like the fact that I would prefer facing an owl that knows martial arts in a cage fight to putting my camera away for a week. Now that is the sacrifice of a true film maker. Would Akaashi-san like to explain again why he thought an owl might know martial arts?”

“Would Ennoshita-san kindly make sure to mention that while I said that, it was 3 a.m. and he had woken me, because he had seen a spider in the bathroom and was too scared to get it out himself?”

Ennoshita chuckles. “He is quite devious, my partner in crime,” he tells the camera, voice a little too warm for his words.

Akaashi shakes his head, smiling despite himself.

“Would you also tell our audience where we are headed, Akaashi-san?” Ennoshita asks, voice coloured with a smile. “Seeing as I have been burned by you too badly to tell.”

“You still seem to be able to speak just fine, but if you must hear it from my mouth: we are headed towards Schloss Neuschwanstein.” The name rolls so awkwardly off his tongue Akaashi wrinkles his nose. Ennoshita probably just wanted to hear him try to pronounce it again.

“A rather iconic sight I have not yet had the pleasure to see up close either! Are you excited, Akaashi-san?”

Akaashi doesn’t indulge him with an answer. But yes, he is. This is the sight he picked to see, and it's going to be amazing.

  


\---

  


“They can’t possibly -” Ennoshita mutters in horror, but yes, the bus they are squeezed into which will take them up the hill to the castle already feels way too cozy, to put it nicely, and the people are genuinely still shoving a baby stroller, plus parents and children in here.

“This was a mistake,” Akaashi mutters under his breath. He’s squished between a woman reeking of heavily sweet perfume, and Ennoshita pretty much pressed to his chest, which is the better fate compared to the sheer amount of _perfume_ this woman must have used. It’s nauseating.

Getting onto this bus alone had been chaotic, the place confusing and stuffed with people, too many languages and tourists and screaming kids. But they’ve come so far and hadn’t even caught more than a glimpse of the castle from afar. Besides, it’s not like they could leave this bus anymore until they reached the destination and everyone would get out.

The way up comes as close to a near death experience as Akaashi has ever witnessed, and the only reason people don’t tumble through the bus as it sharply turns the serpentines is the fact that they are packed too densely to be able to.

By the time they stumble out, Ennoshita is trembling and looking green around the nose, and Akaashi guides him to a nearby bench to sit down, gulping fresh air and enjoying the space and room to move.

Ennoshita puts his face between his knees and makes a long, gurgling noise. “I wanna go home.”

“Home?” Akaashi asks with a chuckle. “That bad?” And then he realises that he doesn’t quite know what Ennoshita even considers home. The man told him before that he’d spent a year after school in a guest family in Germany, that he has friends here and likes to travel the country – that it almost feels like home, despite him still living in Japan.

“The car,” Ennoshita moans in agony. “Home.”

It’s so unexpectedly heartwarming, Akaashi gives in and gently rests his palm between Ennoshita’s shoulder blades to rub his back. A temporary home, huh?

“We can go home after we see this overrated German castle,” he says, torn between amusement and pity.

“I hate Neuschwanstein,” Ennoshita groans.

“We should pretend going to see it was great. That’s probably what everyone else is doing.”

“The whole world is in on this prank,” Ennoshita agrees with a little more life to his voice than before. He slowly raises his face again, and Akaashi drops his hand. “Alright, Akaashi-san. Are you ready to walk to this overrated castle?”

“We’ll go look, take pictures, and then we can go back down the hill.”

After being filmed most of the day, Akaashi can’t feel much remorse when Ennoshita’s face falls at the realisation that he’ll have to take the Death Bus another time.

Maybe just a little.

  


\---

  


“I can’t believe how much money I spent on being traumatised, exhausted, and squeezed together with too many people today,” Ennoshita mutters, for the tenth time. Akaashi can’t quite find the energy to even hum in acknowledgement, dozing with his head leaned against the window.

“Maybe we should find a place to stay soon. The sky’s not looking good at all.”

The thought doesn’t quite graze Akaashi in his sleepiness, mind and thought slipping from him.

Not until he is ripped from sleep, an hour later, the first rolling of thunder pressing down on his helpless state of barely-awake, fear raking through him like a wave.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. We could have timed this better.”

It’s raining, too, and Ennoshita is driving slowly, darkness mostly surrounding them as they are still sneaking through the countryside. That is, until the first flash of lightning shoots across the sky, tinging the horizon with the backdrop of light for a second. Akaashi clings to himself, tries to breathe and hide his true state from Ennoshita next to him.

“Maybe it’d be better if we stopped somewhere and sat it out, I don’t like this and the GPS seems about as trustworthy as an owl that knows martial arts.”

Akaashi tries a tired smile, but the roll of thunder, now louder, only shakes him up more. This is bad enough when he’s alone at home, with a pair of headphones, able to sit it out properly. But they’re in a car somewhere out in the dark, and the terror is choking him up.

“Akaashi-san?” Ennoshita asks, glances over, and curses under his breath.

Akaashi shakes his head, but he’s forgotten how to voice ‘It’s okay’, so he just keeps quiet and concentrates on breathing. By the time Ennoshita pulls over, the heartwrenching fear has quieted to a feeling of dread and unease sitting right under his skin. Unpleasant, but not impossible to deal with.

Akaashi hates thunderstorms.

Ennoshita puts on the handbrake. “What can I do?”

“It’s fine,” Akaashi manages to get out, voice sounding stable enough. “Don’t mind.”

Shaking his head, Ennoshita unclicks his seatbelt and turns so he can start rummaging in the back of the car. “Do you mind switching to the backseat with me?” he asks. “There’s one way I think could help, if you’re okay with it.”

“I’m fine,” Akaashi repeats, voice sounding stronger this time. “I’ve dealt with this my whole life - just, being in the open makes it worse.” And the fatigue, too.

“So that’s why I’m here to help,” Ennoshita insists, and then very clumsily squeezes into the back of the car, sprawling over their luggage. “Ow,” he offers, from where he has his face mashed against a bag, and then moves to sit up and properly look through them. Akaashi distracts himself by watching what on earth Ennoshita is doing, who pulls out a big wool blanket, completely tangled headphones - “Here, take care of those.”

Akaashi accepts them, grateful for the mundane task. Right, headphones are still an option. His own are buried somewhere, though. The music he listens to are german radio stations unless Ennoshita's voice is more worthwhile than paying attention to the background noise. Which is most times, honestly.

“Okay, you can either climb here or risk getting wet outside.” Ennoshita offers his open arms with a twinkle in his eye. “I was the captain of my volleyball team in high school, I’m good at receives.”

“You are _ridiculous,”_ Akaashi replies and tries to squeeze after him, cursing and making undignified noises. He drops half across Ennoshita’s lap, barely able to move.

“Stay like this for a second,” his travel partner says, chuckling, and starts tossing their bags to the front of the car. Akaashi by now is too distracted by the sheer idiocy of the situation to be as influenced by the storm as before, even though the fear is still there, still has its grip on him. He hates this.

But Ennoshita is being so lovely about it.

“Alright! Now, wait -” He spreads a blanket over Akaashi, and gently ushers him into a more comfortable position, curled up on the backseat with his head on Ennoshita’s lap, one hand resting on his shoulder. “Is this alright?”

Usually, Akaashi is not a touchy person – not unless he feels comfortable around a person, and it surprises him, how comfortable he must be feeling alongside Ennoshita already, considering how comfortable this feels.

The blanket is warm and fuzzy, and Ennoshita’s presence soothing in its own right.

“Yes,” Akaashi murmurs and closes his eyes. The thunder keeps rolling outside, the rain pelting against the car, but his world has shrunk down to the both of them alone in the dark. He curls up a little further, feeling sheltered, now. Ennoshita gives a satisfied hum and runs his fingers through Akaashi’s hair, drawing patterns on his scalp which lure the anxiety into drowsiness.

“Headphones?” he asks, voice as warm as Akaashi feels - voice making him feel even warmer.

“Keep going,” Akaashi sighs, shivers dancing across his skin. He’d rather suffer the thunder than lose this sensation.

“Alright,” Ennoshita whispers. “So … the martial arts owl wins over thunder?” he adds, hesitating, clearly wondering whether he’s overstepping boundaries, but Akaashi only gives a tiny, tired snort.

“Any day.”

  


\---

  


“I feel like an old man,” Ennoshita sighs, tiredly tearing tiny pieces from his croissant. Akaashi is halfway through his second cup of coffee, so he can actually engage in conversation again, despite his body feeling like he had fallen asleep sprawled over a person on the backseat of a car - oh wait.

Ennoshita is off worse, though. He's been remarkably sweet and considerate about it, though. Well, which is why he had slept in a sitting position with Akaashi on his lap in the first place.

“Let’s shoot for an actual bed tonight.” Akaashi takes another sip of his coffee, and waits a couple of heartbeats where the silence settles over them, ever so comfortably. “... thank you,” he adds, quietly.

Ennoshita waves his hand like he’s trying to chase an annoying mosquito away. “That’s nothing you have to thank me for. After the spider incident? The least I could do.”

Akaashi snorts into his coffee, looking at Ennoshita over the rim of his cup. That dorky little smile he wears, Akaashi knows already, is one he will try to capture on paper all evening when Ennoshita isn’t looking.

“Between facing thunder and facing an actual live spider, _you_ are the hero among us,” Ennoshita declares. Akaashi steals half his croissant in retaliation, even when Ennoshita had only been half teasing.

  


\---

  


“A bed! An actual bed - do you hear the sound of my back singing praise?” Ennoshita sighs as he melts into the mattress. “I won’t get up or move all night now.”

“Then, may I draw you?” It comes easy to Akaashi, to ask, feeling natural. Ennoshita peeks an eye open, still unmoving, but it’s almost satisfying to watch the colour slowly rise on his cheeks. He blinks. “Uhm -”

“Wouldn’t it only be fair after all the times you pointed your camera at me?” Akaashi asks calmly.

“You _are_ devious,” Ennoshita replies, jabbing a finger at him, then dropping his hand, still flustered. “What would you even want me to do, I -”

“It’s fine if you just keep your eyes closed.” Maybe, with an actual reference in front of his eyes, for once Akaashi would manage to capture Ennoshita’s subtle beauty.The curve of his lips when he smiles, the mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

Relaxed and unguarded like this, he is just as stunning. To Akaashi, he is.

Ennoshita's eyes flutter closed, and a slight crease between his brows stays. “Is this how you feel like when I film you?” he asks after a while, when the silence rings too loud with nothing but the scratch of Akaashi’s pen on the paper.

“I would imagine so.”

“Then kudos to you. I feel so … watched.”

“That’s the point of the exercise, Ennoshita-san,” Akaashi replies with a smile.

“Will you show me your sketchbook afterwards, then? … I’ve seen you draw a lot, but you never showed me anything. I’m curious.”

Akaashi feels heat very close to embarrassment prickle across his skin at how many times Ennoshita will find himself in the sketchbook - squeezed in between scenery, the most overrated castle, mindless doodles. Ennoshita over and over.

“Then answer a question first.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Ennoshita hums, smile curling on his lips again. “Fine, fire away.”

“What’s the third thing you would take on that island at you?”

Ennoshita laughs. “ _That_ ’s your question?! I expected something much deeper. … mmh, it really depends on what I’m allowed to take along. I have something useful, something I need for survival – which is obviously my camera - naturally, I should take along something that makes me happy.”

“... perhaps you should.”

“The happiest. To make the struggle of survival worthwhile, to make it fun. Right?”

“Well, I guess. So what is it you'd take along?”

Ennoshita opens his eyes, and there it is, that spark in them. “You.”

Akaashi freezes where he sits, startled in the middle of heavy silence falling, helpless against the feeling rushing through him. He remembers to exhale, inhale again. It feels like Ennoshita tipped him over, with nothing more than a single syllable and his gaze.

His heart is beating really, really fast.

Ennoshita tenses where he is still lying, and squeezes his eyes shut again, hurrying to disperse the tension: “And you have the flare gun, so it’s the smartest decision.” He adds a laugh so awkward, it’s utterly endearing.

Akaashi hovers his pen over the paper and doesn’t raise his eyes from it again, to regain his composure.

“I guess you are a smart man, Ennoshita-san,” he replies, surprised himself how unaffected his voice stays even when the flutter in his heart won’t stop.

  


\---

  


Akaashi is not ready to show his sketchbook just yet - but Ennoshita accepts it without complaint.

“Tell me when you feel like it - I’ll be stoked.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” is all Akaashi says, but it feels like a promise.

  


\---

  


“Akaashi-san … ?” Ennoshita asks from across the small room, voice low, trying to figure out whether he is still awake.

To be perfectly honest, Akaashi had thought he was the only one not asleep yet.

“Yes?”

“Can I ask another question?” The hesitation in that breathy whisper makes Akaashi’s heart stutter a beat. A part of him wants to refuse - almost scared by the way Ennoshita had gotten under his skin, so fast and easily, without him even realising in the first place. But he has never been a coward.

“Of course.”

“... celery or broccoli?”

It feels like Ennoshita is just building up to whatever he wants to ask, so Akaashi stays a little guarded, does not dare to disturb the strange mood. Keeps his voice low. “Celery.”

“Cats or dogs?”

“... cats.”

“Boys or girls?”

His heart skips another beat, but Akaashi doesn't let it on. “Why would I have to choose?” he asks, voice raspy.

“Ah,” Ennoshita sighs. “Such a good answer again.”

Akaashi can’t pinpoint his tone of voice, its meanings. But there is a hope alight in his chest pointing him in the right direction, and does he pray that he is not wrong with it.

“You should know by now.”

“That you’re brilliant?” Ennoshita asks. “Yeah.”

There’s that feeling again. It is strange - Akaashi had been seeking an adventure, but the most exciting thing he has found in all of Germany is Ennoshita Chikara. None of the sights had been remotely as exhilarating as listening to Ennoshita sighing in the darkness, of wondering and hoping and longing at once, of waiting.

Waiting for more to be said.

Wanting to say more himself.

“The night sky is so bright.” Ennoshita sighs, at last, rolling over to his side, back to Akaashi. It feels like an end of this talk, but Akaashi is not ready yet to let go of it.

“Wasn’t there a huge lawn behind the inn?”

“... yes?”

“How tired are you, Ennoshita-san?”

  


\---

  


“This is so stupid,” Ennoshita snickers, lighting the way with his phone set on the brightest setting, which doesn’t do much considering they’re stumbling over uneven ground and the moonlight is their only hope. “I should’ve brought shoes.”

“Don’t step on a snail,” Akaashi says, mostly because he is sure that he stepped on one with his slippers, and that he won’t have slippers by morning.

“That was oddly specific.”

“I might be suffering.”

Ennoshita chuckles. “How good you brought shoes - jeez, the ground is really cold. Feels like it’s more soil than grass.”

“More molehills than soil, too.”

Akaashi almost stumbles, and Ennoshita reaches out, steadies his shoulder. Drops his hand slowly enough for Akaashi to reach out. Their cold hands find each other in the warm summer air, fingers a little clumsy, lacing together just perfectly. “Careful there,” Ennoshita whispers.

Akaashi only follows him to the middle of the lawn, where they sink to the ground together, heads tilted to the sky.

Their hands warm as their breathing evens out, the exhilaration giving way to something more gentle and peaceful.

“Beautiful,” Ennoshita sighs, gaze to the stars. “Isn’t it?”

Akaashi looks at Ennoshita's profile in the pale light of the moon. “Yes,” he whispers, with too much devotion, heavy enough to capture Ennoshita’s attention, make him meet Akaashi’s gaze.

There’s a rueful little smile on Ennoshita’s face, a shy question woven into his words. “Careful, or you’ll make me think you mean me rather than the night sky.”

It’s simple, really. “I do,” Akaashi replies.

Ennoshita’s grasp on his hand tightens. “Ah. Don’t wake me up, please, alright?”

With a chuckle, Akaashi squeezes his hand back. “Don’t make fun of me now.”

“I mean it. I don’t usually -” Ennoshita takes a moment to think over his words, continuing much more seriously, with a hint of sheepishness. “Do this. Do roadtrips with witty, beautiful, _stunning_ people. Have them think I’m … beautiful, too.”

“I don’t usually go looking for the beauty in the world and find it in another person, either.”

“God,” Ennoshita gasps, pushing himself up to balance on the balls of his feet, towering over Akaashi now, much closer. Close enough for Akaashi to see how much his eyes are swimming with emotion, with the same kind of longing. “You're too much for me. I wish I could chase the horizon with you forever.”

Akaashi reaches up and rests his palm along Ennoshita’s face, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone. He loves the way Ennoshita’s eyelashes flutter, his smile curls in a way Akaashi had not seen before, feels possessive of.

“You know what else I’d like?” Ennoshita asks, covering Akaashi’s hand on his cheek with his own, eyes closed like he wishes to continue dreaming.

“Tell me,” Akaashi asks gently, a little breathless, but his heart beating steadily, hope alight, alight.

“For us not to be an adventure, but steady. For me to ask you out on a proper date, no rented cars and language barrier with the barista. Something that may be more than memories. … is that stupid?”

“Not at all,” Akaashi breathes back, leaning their foreheads together. Ennoshita gasps, delighted and relieved, almost a laugh. Akaashi finds it impossibly endearing. “In fact, I’m lucky I can even take you home - it doesn’t matter how long the shipping will take, then.”

“It’s only three months until I’m back in Japan,” Ennoshita sighs. “Think it’s worth the wait?” Akaashi slowly wraps his arms around Ennoshita and pulls him closer, into a tight embrace. Buries his nose at his neck and sighs, feeling at ease. In the face of this feeling, of the promises it holds, Ennoshita's question sounds ridiculous.

“I’ll only kiss you after our first real date. Motivation enough?” Akaashi asks, knowing that Ennoshita can feel Akaashi's smirk against his neck.

“You truly are too much,” he only replies, holding Akaashi tightly in turn. Neither of them care for the stars much, anymore. “I really, really like you, Akaashi.”

“How fortunate,” Akaashi replies, feeling at ease just as much as he feels alive, filled with prickling hope down to the tips of his toes. “Because I really like you, too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> \- Akaashi gave Ennoshita his sketchbook before they said goodbye and left it in his care until he could come return it
> 
> \- Akaashi also lied because after 3 months of endlessly long skype calls filled with longing and promises you bet the first thing he did when he saw Ennoshita at the airport was kiss him


End file.
